Selfeless Saviour
by Lizz The Boho
Summary: A re-write of my story “A Trip in Time Saves Satine” from my previous account, Mountain Dew Lizz


Title: Selfless Savior 

By: Lizz The Boho

Disclaimer: I don't own Moulin Rouge, but I do own the "new" characters

Summary: A re-write of my story "A Trip in Time Saves Satine" from my previous account.

Dedication: Just all of my (two) fans.

A/N: New account and new stories. Here's the re-write for "Trip In Time" starting from the beginning. Tell me how you like it! 

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He sucked his breath inwards into to his shaking body. His eyes were locked on the time capsule about ten feet away from him. 

_Oh my God, this is it. This is really it_. Suddenly a steady hand landed on his shoulder. The scientist looked over his shoulder to the figure behind him. He already knew who it was. It was the one he loved the most, and yet also dreaded to see. His heart broke as he looked into her eyes and saw tears in them. The same salty liquid was forming around his own eyes. The two stayed in this position for a few seconds, though it seemed like an eternity to them. Finally, she spoke up.

"Are you…sure?" she redhead slowly questioned. She acted brave, but her breaking voice gave her away. The man looked back at her quizzically for a moment. He had forgotten all about the reason they were there in the first place. Suddenly, he remembered yet wished he hadn't. 

In a spontaneous act, he grabbed his colleague and pressed his own lips to hers. The world seemed to melt away…it was only them. Before he knew it, it was over and he was staring into his love's eyes, tears spilling out of them. He realized that the same was happening to him.

He took her hand a pressed a small piece of paper into hers. His own voice broke as he spoke. 

"Yes." He couldn't say more than that. He hugged her, turned around, and ran to the time machine. He hopped in and quickly turned the dials to the correct reading: 1899, Montmartre, France. He flipped the switch that would send him speeding through time. Just as he did, he turned his head to look at the figure off in the distance for his last look at her. She mouthed to him, "I love you, Michael." He mouthed back, "I love you, too." And with that, he was sucked through time.

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Suddenly, he came to a complete stop. Michael looked at his strange surroundings, which, at the time, appeared to be an alley. He stepped outside of the time capsule and it immediately turned invisible. This cloaking device, the product of one of his colleagues' genius, was, he realized, in fact very useful, though he had thought it stupid at the time of it's birth. He walked down the alleyway and into the street.

He automatically knew he was in the right place; he had done enough research on the town, both as a young child and in his adult life, especially after he decided to do this project. All around him were the lovely people called bohemians. His gaze was fixated on them; everything about them entranced him. The way they moved, spoke, looked…it was all so amazing. He knew this, truly, was where he belonged. Suddenly a hand touched him. 

A man, most likely around thirty-five, in a brown business suit was shaking him.

"Are you alright, young man? You look a bit star struck. And I simply cannot imagine how you could feel so…happy in a city such as this one." The man laughed. Michael felt his face burn with anger.

"Well if you feel that way about it, then why are you here?" he shot back. When the businessman started to look angry, Michael continued with a sly grin. "For the Moulin Rouge, I suppose?" At this, the man became enraged and pushed Michael to the ground.

"How _dare_ you speak to me that way?" he, literally, spat. Michael simply laughed as the man walked away in anger. He stood up, dusted himself off, and continued on his way.

"Alright, I need to find Uncle Christian…" he said to himself. "How hard can that be? This is a relatively small village with…" he looked around. "About a thousand people." When he realized how many bohemians were walking around, his heart sunk. Perhaps it would be hard to find his Uncle. And what about shelter? What was he to do. 

Things were not any better a half an hour later. He was still walking around; the situation was the same, except he was now very tired, hungry, and depressed. And just when he thought things simply could _not_ get any worse, he felt a drop on his shoulder. His gaze turned to the, now dark, sky. More drops dripped onto him. His nose, his hair, his clothes, all got hit. 

"_Dammit_!" he yelled at no one in particular. He was about ready to abort his mission and go back to his home, his life, his love. Suddenly, though, he realized that the rain was not hitting him anymore. For the first time, he noticed that there was an umbrella over him and a man beside him. When he saw the man, his heart jumped! For lo! It was his Great-great-great uncle Christian.

"Excuse me, Sir, but do you need some help?" Christian asked. Then his facial expression turned to surprise at the sight of Michael. Michael just looked at him with his mouth open. Then his relative spoke. 

"Cousin?" 

**End the Introduction**


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